


The Last Dragonlord

by Idk_hi_iguess



Series: Merlin Episode AUs [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e13 The Last Dragonlord, It's shit, Kilgharrah is a little shit, have it I was bored
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 12:43:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16475807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idk_hi_iguess/pseuds/Idk_hi_iguess
Summary: The Last Dragonlord but implied Merthur (It's not really an au but I wanted to write something)





	The Last Dragonlord

Merlin was sat on his bed, toying with the dragon figurine his father had given him, his nimble fingers running through the ridges and imperfections in the wood. He couldn’t tell if he was crying or not, and neither did he care. 

“Merlin, what happened?” Gaius’ grounding voice broke the silence, and he held onto it like a drowning man to a branch. 

He swallowed before speaking, tears threatening to spill again. “I couldn't save him.” 

“Merlin.” Gaius’ words were merely a breath on the wind, and he hardly caught them. 

“He said the dragonlord's gift is passed from father to son.” It felt important that he tell Gaius this, even when he already knew his magic was useless against the dragon.

“That is true.”

“When I faced the Great Dragon, my magic was useless.” Maybe he wasn’t even Balinor’s son, and he still hadn’t found his father. 

“Your father wasn't dead. It's only then you can inherit his powers.” 

Merlin paused, gripping the small wooden figurine so tight he was scared his magic would light it in flames. “Do you think I'm strong enough to stand up to him?” 

“Only time will tell.” 

 

Working with the familiar straps and ties that made up the armor which was all that stood between Arthur and a fiery death at the hands of the dragon, he tried to stop thinking about the next few hours, about how is destiny was slipping away from his grasp as surely as water moved through a river bed. 

“Well, look on the bright side, Merlin. Chances are you're not going to have to clean this again.” Why was he so bloody cheerful? Merlin wanted to punch him 

He tried to be a voice of reason “You must be careful today. Do not force the battle.” 

“Yes, Sire!” He tightened his belt with malice for the jab and it earned him a quick intake of breath from his prince.

“I'm serious.”

“I can hear that.” Prat

He tried again to get Arthur to take him seriously, “Let matters take their course.” 

“Merlin, if I die, please…” He had almost prefered it when his prince was joking and taking the mick out of him.

“What?” It was sharp, but really Merlin didn’t know what he’d do if Arthur died.

“The dragonlord today...I saw you.” It felt like Arthur had punched him in the gut with his iron gloves, “One thing I tell all my young knights: no man is worth your tears.” 

It wasn’t just any man though, and Arthur couldn’t know that. “Yeah. You're certainly not.” He covered his hurt with humour and Arthur seemed to go along with it. 

Arthur picked up his sword and carefully examined the blade, running his hand over it, when sheathing it and making to leave. Merlin picked up the spare sword from the table and he looked at him quizzically. 

“What are you doing?”

His resolve hardened, he was going to be with his Prince until the end, and Arthur could mourn him, “I'm coming with you.”

“Merlin, the chances are I'm going to die.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, you probably would if I wasn't there.” He smiled and he hoped it looked normal.

He laughed and Merlin savoured it, knowing it might be the last time either of them saw each other alive. “Right.”

“Do you know how many times I've had to save your royal backside?” the amount of times he had told Arthur the truth and he was too obtuse to even realise. 

“Well at least you got your sense of humour back.”

Arthur started to walk out the door but turned back to look at Merlin. “Are you really going to face this dragon with me?”

“I'm not going to sit here and watch. I know it's hard for you to understand how I feel,” Could he tell him? “But...well,” tell him “I care a hell of a lot about that armour, I'm not going to let you mess it up.” When was he going to be honest with himself and Arthur. 

Arthur laughed and gave Merlin a hit on the shoulder, wrapping his arm around Merlin and leading both of them out of the training room. 

~

They waited for the dragon, the cold wind whipping their faces. Arthur looked back at Merlin just as the sound of Dragon wings was heard in the silent night. The dragon came into view and Arthur could feel his men tighten their hands on their weapons. 

“Hold firm.” He shouted to his men, and Merlin felt fear leap into his throat. 

The dragon swooped down towards the group of men, and a few started running. 

“Hold! Hold! Hold! Now!” The urgency in Arthur’s voice made Merlin want to throw himself in front of the man so he wouldn’t be harmed. 

 

[The knights circle their horses in formation to surround Kilgharrah. Kilgharrah knocks Merlin, Arthur and some other knights off of their horses with his tail. Kilgharrah roasts some other knights.]

The knights circled the dragon on horseback, but the Dragon just knocked them to the ground. The dragon started advancing on the knights, when Merlin yelled, “No. Stop!” 

He turned to Merlin and Arthur, and Arthur picked up a spear, ready to try and kill him. The Dragon looked at him for a minute before letting a curl of fire out of his mouth towards Arthur, who rolled out of the way before anything could happen, and he managed to catch the Dragon with his weapon. Then before Merlin can contemplate what happened, Arthur is on the ground. 

 

“You're the last dragonlord now.” His father’s voice came to him as if in a vision, and he looked around for a dead man, “You alone carry the ancient gift. Deep within yourself, you must find the voice that you and Kilgharrah share, for your soul and his are brothers. When you speak to him as kin, he must obey your will.”

 

He spoke and the words came out of nowhere, but he knew each one as if he had grown up with them whispered in his ear.  _ “Dracan! Nán dyd ǽlc áciere miss! Eftsíðas eom ála cræt! Géate' stǽr ábære gárrǽs! Géate cyre. Mé tácen átende diegollice. Car grise áþes.” _

The Dragon looked shock and angry, but bowed his head to Merlin, the proud beast submissive in the face of his power. Merlin picked up Arthur’s fallen spear, and aimed it at Kilgharrah. 

He spoke, and his words were filled with remorse and carried weight of a thousand deaths. “I am the last of my kind, Merlin. Whatever wrongs I have done, do not make me responsible for the death of my noble breed.”

He threw the spear into the ir and stopped it before it reached the Dragon’s exposed neck. “Go! Leave! If you ever attack Camelot again, I will kill you!” Bowing, the Dragon looked deep into Merlin’s soul. “I have shown you mercy! Now you must do the same to others!”

“Young warlock, what you have shown is what you will be. I will not forget your clemency. I'm sure our paths will cross again.” The Dragon left the blazing battlefield, strewn with his victims.  

As soon as he was out of sight, Merlin knelt next to Arthur, tear spilling from his eyes as he desperately felt for a pulse. His eyes fluttered open and Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. 

“What happened?” His voice was cracked and raspy. 

“You dealt him a mortal blow.” One day Arthur would know the truth. 

“He's gone?” Arthur cupped Merlin’s face with his hand, delirious. 

“Yeah. You did it.” 

He laughed insanely, hysterical, beautiful, wonderfully _alive_ laugher. 

Merlin joined in, disbelief over what he had done flooding his bones. “You did it”

 


End file.
